


we didnt even realize.

by Prospurrity



Category: Free!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Explicit Sexual Content, I think? who knows ive never written smut before, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prospurrity/pseuds/Prospurrity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times haru kisses makoto, and one time makoto kisses haru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we didnt even realize.

One.

Haru's careful cleaning up Makoto's knee, blue bandaids with cat heads littering the marred surface, placed by slender fingers. Makoto's still crying, he finds. 

"It still hurts," the shorter of the two explains, fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks, lower lip jutting out in a pout. Haru stands and goes to rip two tissues from the box on the table, handing them to a shaking Makoto. The brown-haired boy, strands messy from his fall, thanks him. Haru nods, sitting down in front of him again to check for more injuries. Makoto's still whimpering by the time he finishes.

"Haru-chan-" Haru doesn't bother correcting him - "M-my mom - she normally k-kisses this stuff better..." Haru watches Makoto as he speaks, then leans over, pressing a small kiss to his knee.

"Like that?" He asks, perfectly calm. Makoto's eyes brighten a bit and he nods, frantically scrubbing his eyes and cheeks with the tissues.

"Y-yeah! Better. Thank you." He smiles his Makoto smile, eyes squinting shut.

Two.

If Haru angles his head _just so_ , he can hear the steady pulse of Makoto's heart. They're getting too old to share a bed, and Haru thinks this is one part of growing up he won't enjoy. 

It's cold, however, and Haru purposefully stayed in the bath too long, letting his fingers prune and his skin start to raise gooseflesh along its surface. Makoto insisted he help Haru get warm again, which consisted of Makoto pouring too much sugar into their tea and wrapping blankets around Haru could have sworn he'd be smothered in the soft layers. Neither of which helped much at all, much to Makoto's dismay. 

Haru does, however, suggest that Makoto just sleep in his bed for the night. The floor is colder, after all, so the spare futon Haru has laying around would just be uncomfortable. Plus, he'd added, it'd keep Haru warm, which was always a bonus in Makoto's mind.

Haru's still awake, though. Even with Makoto breathing so peacefully beside him, he can't seem to calm his nerves. Every spot of bare skin touching Makoto sends tingles up his spine. He can feel Makoto's rough hands on his back, squeezing him firmly against the larger boy's chest so that all he can see is Makoto's skin. 

It's nice, really, even in the dark. He can see the faint lines of Makoto's muscles, barely resisting the urge to trace along them with his finger. He's sure Makoto would wake up, then, if he wasn't already.

His heartbeat continues to ring steadily in Haru's ear. It matches the tingling pulses throughout his nerves and, somehow, reminds Haru of the ocean.

He's glad he can hear it, because the way he feels like his own chest is seizing up at the mere thought of the ocean - the training camp, to be precise - is certainly something he should be worried about. He finds he isn't, because Makoto is there and Makoto is alive and breathing and his heartbeat is music to Haru's ears.

He places a small, quick kiss to his chest, where he can feel the gentle pulse against his lips, and hopes Makoto doesn't wake up.

He doesn't, but that's okay, because it means Haru can stay wrapped up in Makoto until he falls asleep.

Three.

Haru is positive Makoto can feel his heart beating. He can feel it, reverberating against his fingertips, quick and hot and heavy and _this is way too real_ but he's not scared. Haru isn't scared of anything. Especially not of his childhood best friend, green gaze trained on him.

 _I like you, Haru-chan,_ he'd whispered, voice just an inch from breaking.

Haru hadn't replied, simply slipped his fingers between Makoto's and told him to _stop with the -chan._

Now they're home. Haru's close to inviting Makoto over, but figures it's for the best if he doesn't. Then they'd have to talk. Instead, he walks Makoto to his front door. They exchange quiet partings, telling each other to sleep well and have a nice night.

Makoto turns to open the door.

Haru clutches his wrist.

With a worried expression, Makoto looks at him.

_Haru?_

Haru stands on tiptoe - Makoto's gotten too tall - and presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He can feel Makoto smiling, can feel his burning cheeks, as he pulls away, waves, and turns to leave. He denies that he's doing the same.

Four.

Haru is ninety-nine percent sure he's on fire. Makoto has him pressed against the wall, knee nudging up between his legs, and Haru can feel his gasps reverberate back into his own mouth.

It's exhilarating. 

He rolls his hips in soft, needy snaps, fabric dragging against fabric, making Haru whimper in both arousal and frustration. 

"Pants off," he demands, moving his hands from where they're tangled into Makoto's hair and tugging at them, foregoing unbuttoning them because it's way too much work. Makoto's being useless, simply taking the distraction his pants are giving Haru and using it to his advantage. He reaches down, and Haru makes a soft sound when hands cup his ass, squeezing and kneading it while Haru strips Makoto of his pants and underwear. 

Haru lets Makoto chuckle at the needy noises he's making. It gives him the opportunity - which he obviously takes - to flip their positions, pinning Makoto to the wall, causing the taller boy to _squeak_ in surprise.

He lets out that same, adorable noise when Haru drops to his knees, fingers digging into Makoto's hips as he leans up to mouth at his boyfriend's cock, blue gaze piercing into green. Makoto keeps one hand over his mouth, stifling surprised little noises into his skin, the other threading through Haru's hair.

Haru likes watching Makoto fall apart like this. He almost smirks when Makoto lets out a needy cry, result of Haru's tongue swiping directly over his slit. As he takes the head into his mouth, lips folded over his teeth, he continues to watch Makoto behind thick, drooping eyelashes. He sucks, hard, and hears more than sees Makoto's head fall back against the wall. His hips shake as Haru swallows more of his cock into his mouth. It's a bit unnecessary for Haru to moan so lewdly around him, since the pleasure is written right across his face, but it seems to rile Makoto up, hips twitching so that Haru is forced to take in more of him.

He never knew his name could sound so broken coming from Makoto's lips, swollen and red from biting them so much, but it's so delicious that Haru doesn't need to exaggerate the next moan that vibrates around Makoto.

When he comes, his hips buck forward, even if Haru can tell he's trying to restrain himself, and releases into his boyfriend's mouth, crying out a cocktail of Haru's name and loud, shaking moans. Haru swallows what he can, the rest escaping through the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Makoto smiles apologetically when Haru stands again, reaching up to clean the come from his face. 

"You made a mess."

"Sorry, Haru-chan." Another sweet smile. Haru shrugs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Make it up to me, then."

It's his turn to squeak when Makoto picks him up and carries him, bridal style, to his bedroom. 

Five.

Everyone's crying. Haru can hear Nagisa blubbering, begging Makoto to call him as often as possible, can hear Rei, despite his choked voice, consoling the blonde and rubbing his back. Kou and Rin aren't better off. Rin's so obviously trying not to cry, but Haru can tell by the way he keeps rubbing at his eyes. He blames it on allergies. Kou's eyes are big and glassy. She keeps hugging Makoto, telling him how much she's going to miss him.

Haru stands behind them, patiently waiting for his turn to cry. He wants to be silent about it and have a moment alone with Makoto before his boyfriend heads to Tokyo.

When Makoto gazes over at him, giving a sweet smile that Haru knows is only for him, he knows it's his turn. 

Makoto opens his arms, and Haru surprises himself, even, with the force and speed he uses when he runs into them, wrapping his own around the taller boy. He buries his face in Makoto's chest, letting the other's arms surround him.

"Call me," he whispers against his shirt, feeling the beginnings of tears prick at his eyes.

"Of course." Soft lips land on top of his head.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Haru-chan."

"One month."

"Right. One month." Makoto's trying not to cry, too. He can hear the tears in his voice and see them when he pulls away. Immediately, he reaches up to cup his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him hard. He wants to feel it for that month, wants to remember the way his lips feel until he can kiss him again.

He can see the shine of tears on Makoto's cheeks when he has to leave. Haru's sure he's sporting something similar.

One.

Makoto's careful to sweep the crowd thoroughly. If he misses Haru, he'd never forgive himself. He checks his watch for the third time in two minutes.

_Where is he?_

He barely catches the silky black hair and piercing blue gaze until it's staring him straight in the face.

He breathes a sigh of relief, feeling his cheeks split with a smile so wide he's scared his mouth will get stuck.

"I'm home," Haru whispers.

"Welcome back," Makoto returns, stepping forward to close the space between them, the crowd of people in the airport fading to nothing as he leans over to kiss him.


End file.
